


Triumvirate

by thewightknight



Series: A Ben-Hassrath, a Tal-Vashoth and a Tevinter mage walk into a bedroom [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BSDM, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Roughness, Sexual Content, male characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evrion and Dorian have developed an arrangement with Iron Bull, because humans can be a bit too fragile sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> The romance options for Inquisition are horrible, because you have to choose which one! Having trouble making up my mind on this playthrough, so here's my solution. It has an explicit rating for a reason. I'm still learning the tagging system. In the first chapter, both the Inquisitor and Dorian make some bad judgement calls about the physical side of their relationship. If anyone has any suggestions of tags I should add to this, please let me know.
> 
> This somewhat follows after [Charging for the Chargers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070946/chapters/6663986).

The dragon gave one final bellow and collapsed in an explosion of snow. Bull and Evrion roared in unison, drowning out Sera’s whoops. Dorian leaned on his staff, exhausted. This was the third dragon they’d found in Emprise de Lion, and it’d taken hours to wear the beast down. 

The two Qunari didn’t seem tired in the least. It wasn’t fair. He should expect it by now. Matter of fact … yes, it did look like another round of dragon-slaying had gotten them worked up again.

“Sera, we might want to make our way out and leave these two to do their celebrating.”

“What do you mean?” Sera asked.

“Well, considering your preferences, what’s about to happen is probably something you don’t want to witness.” 

Sera turned and looked. “Aaugh! Are they…? Aaaaaugh!” She turned back and started scrambling up the rocky slope.

He followed her up at a more leisurely pace. She was pacing, muttering to herself. “Never gonna be able to say bits up face down again without thinking of that there.” She spun and pointed at him. “And you! I thought the two of you were … you know.”

“We are.”

“But the two of them are ... you know!”

“They are.”

“So what’s up with that, anyways?”

“Well, it’s been determined that I am a bit too fragile to deal with the, well, moods that dragon slaying causes.”

“How’d you figure that out?” She stopped, put her hands up and shook her head. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.”

Some days Dorian didn’t want to remember how they’d figured it out either.

...

They’d been tracking down some silly thing in the Hissing Wastes. Cassandra and Varric had been bickering as usual, and he and Evrion had been paying too much attention to their bickering and not enough attention to their surroundings, so they’d all been taken completely by surprise when they crested a hill and nearly walked right into a sleeping dragon. He hated to think how that battle may have gone if they hadn’t had the element of surprise on their side, but between himself and Varric they’d been able to mine and trap the area thoroughly before the beast woke up. 

Evrion said he was going to scout for whatever it was they’d been looking for (he really should pay attention to these things at briefings, he knew!) and told them to stay and strip the carcass of what they could carry. Dorian followed him anyways (of course), and found him behind a pillar in a nearby ruins. He’d had to stop and stare. Evrion, normally so reserved in public, looked absolutely magnificent braced against a wall, head thrown back, breath coming in short pants as he stroked his engorged shaft. It was quite the pretty picture, but like any picture it would be improved with him in it, he decided. 

Evrion’s eyes flew open in shock when Dorian’s hands joined his. “I’m a bit put out you slipped away without me,” he purred. “But you can make it up to me.”

“No, Dorian, not now, now when I’m like this. I’ll hurt you, I won’t be careful enough. I … naaaaugh!” the last part of his sentence was lost as Dorian moved his right hand downwards, massaging his sack and squeezing. 

“There’s no way I’m going to let this opportunity slide, darling. Come on. I can take it.” He worked his thumb across the tip, and when Evrion tried to protest again, he reached up and grabbed a horn, pulling him down for a kiss. He’d learned how sensitive it was at the base of a Qunari’s horn and took shameless advantage, massaging it while alternating between licking and kissing the lips that were still trying to make words that he didn’t want to hear. 

Evrion went from protesting to acquiescing in a snap and suddenly Dorian found himself lifted and turned and his back was slammed up against the pillar, one hand cupping the back of his head, the other supporting him at his waist, finally kissing back. Dorian managed to pry his other arm out from between them and traced his way up the chest, curling around the back of his neck and pulling himself up, wrapping his legs around his lover’s waist and grinding their hips together. 

Evrion pulled back from the kiss, and his eyes were almost black in the dim light. “Promise me,” he growled. “Promise me you’ll tell me to stop if I’m hurting you.”  


Dorian started to laugh, then stopped at the expression on Evrion’s face. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Why do you think you’re going to hurt me?”

“Just promise me. You don’t know….” Evrion trailed off and Dorian kissed him again.

“I promise, I promise.” The words had barely left his mouth when the breath was driven from him, pressed back against the pillar again. Evrion’s hands were everywhere, working at the straps of his robes. Dorian felt a twinge of unease when Evrion lost patience with the buckles, ripping off the straps across his shoulder with a growl. This was nothing like the tender lover of the past few weeks. He squashed the little voice in the back of his head that started whispering about how this was maybe not such a good idea and instead helped work on his clothes. 

Getting completely undressed in the middle of a windy desert had absolutely no appeal, but between the two of them they finally managed to bare enough. Evrion had seem to calm a little, but as soon as Dorian closed his hand around their members and stroked, all the urgency came back. “Harder,” he growled, and Dorian picked up the pace of his strokes. “Harder!” Evrion demanded again, and he pressed forward, and apparently they’d moved out from the pillar sometime in the last few minutes, because they slammed back into it with force and the back of Dorian’s head cracked against the stone and there was a white light, and then nothing.

…

Someone kept calling his name. It was really quite annoying, as his head hurt terribly. They wouldn’t stop, though, and so eventually he opened his eyes. Evrion loomed over him, and it took a moment to realize he was lying down with his head in the Qunari’s lap. Evrion swam in and out of focus, and then there were three of him, and he felt dizzy and closed his eyes again. 

“What happened?” he mumbled, trying by force of will to make the world stop spinning.

“I slammed your head into the pillar. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have … I could have killed you. I’m sorry.”

The last few minutes came back to him finally. He groaned. “Well, you did try to warn me.” He opened his eyes again. First two, then four Evrions were hovering over him. “I think my skull is cracked.” His tongue felt thick and he was having problems talking.

“We’ve got to get you back to camp. We don’t have any healing poultices left after the dragon.”

Alright then. Moving. He could move. Or not, he thought, after his stomach heaved when he trying to sit up. He took deep breaths, eyes closed again, until the nausea subsided, then tried again. He made it to his feet this time, leaning heavily on Evrion’s arms, then ended up vomiting all over the base of that bedamned pillar. He realized in the middle of emptying his belly that the reason his tongue felt thick was that he’d bitten it, his stomach acids stinging in the wound. “Lovely,” he groaned. His head was pounding, and Evrion was keeping up a constant litany of apologies and self-reproach. He waved limply at him. “We should definitely talk about this, yes, but not now please?” The wind picked up again, and he realized that on top of everything else he was still hanging out of his clothing. Attempting to right his robes caused another round of dizziness, and Evrion had to help him, holding him against his side. Of course, there were the torn straps that couldn’t be closed, and Evrion started to apologize again.

Walking ended up being completely beyond him, so Evrion carried him back to where the others waited. Cassandra and Varric exclaimed when they saw them, and before Evrion could blurt anything out he mumbled “Slipped on a sandy slope and hit my head on a rock. Clumsy fool. Can’t take me anywhere.” Cassandra accepted this excuse blithely, but Varric’s eyebrows could have filled skeptical chapters. The dwarf didn’t contradict his statement, though, and kept up a constant ramble on the way back to camp, making sure he didn’t fall asleep along the way.


	2. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull steps in after Evrion can't deal with what happened out in the Hissing Wastes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first really explicit work. Involves BDSM and topping.

Evrion really was avoiding him, Dorian realized. It’d been a week since they’d gotten back from the Hissing Wastes, and at first it just seemed that he’d been caught up in the usual bustle any return entailed, reports and briefings and hours closeted up in the War Room, but after the first few days he still wasn’t anywhere to be found in his usual haunts, and when Dorian had sought him out particularly, he’d make excuses and leave. They’d had another such encounter just now, Evrion pleading off, saying he had to meet Josephine for a dancing lesson. That had been a dead giveaway, considering what lengths he’d previously gone to in avoiding those same lessons.

Not knowing what else to do, he’d made his way to the tavern, and was now sitting in a corner brooding into a tankard.

A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off the bench. “You look like a cat pissed into your ale. What’s the matter, Vint? Ran out of virgins to sacrifice?” Bull thunked down beside him, waving for a tankard of his own.

Dorian half-heartedly ran through a few comebacks, decided they were all too inane to be uttered, and took a long drink instead.

“Shards, something must be really wrong if you’re letting that one pass. What’s wrong, Vint? Lovers’ quarrel?”

He grimaced, and said “I don’t know if you’d call it a quarrel exactly.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

The thought must have shown on his face, because Bull said, “Look, I know I’m not your favorite person, but you really look like you need to get something off your chest.”

Baring his soul to a Qunari mercenary captain hadn’t been on his list of things to do for the day, but somehow he found himself pouring out the whole experience. 

Bull nodded and grunted as he listened, and when Dorian finished, he shook his head. “Well, aren’t the two of you a fine pair of dumbasses? Don’t worry, Vint, we’ll get this fixed. Don’t go hiding anyplace. Don’t get too drunk either.” He stood and strode out of the tavern, leaving Dorian blinking after him in bemusement.

…

Evrion was hiding in his rooms. There was no other thing he could call it, no reasonable explanation he could come up with for why he was sitting on the floor in the doorway to one of his balconies, staring off into nothing. 

Every time he saw Dorian, his heart contracted painfully in his chest, thinking of what could have happened, and he’d quickly find some excuse to not be where the mage was, because the infuriating man kept trying to corner him and he couldn’t let that happen. It was better for both of them to end it now, before he did the human any real harm.  


He lost track of time, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing. He didn’t know how long he would have stayed there, except he heard the tread of boots on the stairs. He should have guessed who it was from the heavy step, when Bull’s horns cleared the railings. 

“You in here, Boss? Oh, there you are.” He looked up. Bull was staring at him, hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Yep. You two’ve really made a mess of things. Totally a pair of dumbasses.”

Oh, burn it all. Bull had talked to Dorian, heard how Evrion had screwed up. He hunched in on himself even further in the doorway.

The heavy clomp of boots should have warned him, but he found himself unexpectedly hoisted up by the horns and shoved back against the doorframe.

“Look at me, you sorry bastard. We’re going to talk about this, but not until you’ve gotten this wallowing out of your system. So move.” With that, he found himself shoved back into the room. Bull followed, pushing him across the room until they were standing in front of the fireplace. “Strip,” Bull ordered. He hesitated, and Bull was in his face. “You need this, Boss. Trust me. Strip.” He obeyed, and Bull took each piece of clothing from his hands, casting them aside. Once he was naked, Bull ordered “Kneel. Sit on your heels. Hands clasped behind your neck.” He obeyed again, the stone floor hard against his knees. Bull circled him, removing his harness as he talked. “You do as I say. You don’t talk, except if it gets too much. Then what do you say?”

“ _Katoh_ ,” Evrion responded automatically. He looked up, and his eyes widened. Bull had his belt in his hands, doubled up. 

“Good.” The first crack landed across his shoulders, and he half-rose from his heels. Bull grabbed one of his horns again and pulled him back down, head back, neck bent at a painful angle. “I said you don’t move.” Evrion nodded again, as well as he could and Bull let go, began circling him again. The second blow was across the ribs. The third hit his lower back. He stopped counting after that. 

After some floating timelessness, Bull grabbed his horns and pulled his head down, until his head was touching the floor. His erection pushed against his stomach as he was doubled over – he didn’t remember getting hard, but as soon as it was trapped between his belly and legs, it was all he could think about. Bull hit him once, twice across the buttocks, catching his sack on the second blow, and he couldn’t stay still anymore. His back arched and he writhed, and his moans echoed off the stone beneath him. Bull didn’t rebuke him this time, though. 

Instead, his legs were spread apart, and oil dribbled across his back. He arched his back again in surprise, and this time Bull leaned in, pressing down on the hands still clasped behind his neck, pushing his head back down, grinding his forehead into the floor. The other hand worked the oil downwards, between his buttocks, massaging it into his cleft. He banged his lip on the floor, tasting blood, as Bull’s finger penetrated him without warning. The finger rotated, making him whine as his hole burned with the stretch, and then Bull found that one spot and he spasmed, actually lifting his head off the floor a few inches even with Bull’s weight on his neck. Bull growled “Stay down" again, and he somehow forced his body to relax, even as the finger worked in and out. A second finger joined the first, too soon, and then a third, and he whined as the burn and stretch increased even as he writhed when Bull began repeatedly hitting that magic spot, and then the fingers were removed and he bit through his lip as Bull shoved into him, thick and hot, and began pounding into him, his now-free hand grasping at Evrion’s hip with bruising force. 

It wasn't too long before his knees started skidding across the floor with the repeated impacts, and then the pressure was gone at the back of his neck and Bull was lifting him up, impaling him even further, pulling him up until back met chest and his welts stung with the sweat. One hand grasped his throat, constricting his breathing, and the other hand, still slick from oil, slid around his hip and grasped his shaft, pumping in time with the thrusts, and he felt as if his entire body exploded. Bull came a few seconds later, roaring into his ear as his body bucked against Evrion, clinging to him, cutting his air off completely for an instant, then falling back, arms folding around his torso, holding him up. After a few breaths, Bull pulled back slightly, sliding out, then knelt, gathering Evrion against him again. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until they were both closer to normal breathing, and then Bull reached up, unlacing Evrion’s fingers and pulling his arms down to his sides. They tingled with the movement, stiff from being in the same position for so long. After some undetermined length of time it occurred to him that he might find out if his body still actually worked, and he slid off of Bull’s thighs until he was sitting on the floor, arms limp in his lap. 

When he looked up, Bull was staring at him, one corner of his mouth turned up in that lopsided smile of his. “Better, Boss?”

He thought about it. He felt … good. Better than he had since this whole mess had started, when he first woke in a cell at Haven.

“Better, yes. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” Bull leaned forward, settled into a cross-legged position. “Now, we talk.”

It was completely impossible for his body to tense up at the moment, Evrion discovered. It tried, though. “Dorian told you what happened?”

“Yeah. So let’s go over what went wrong. Were you in control of your environment?”

“No,” Evrion whispered. 

“Did you even agree on a safe word?” 

Evrion shook his head shamefully.

Bull sighed. “You’re both idiots. He’s a tough little fellow, for a mage, but he’s still a human, and they’re no good for us with the rough stuff. He’s got more balls than sense, that one.” Evrion sagged, his recently-obtained recent peace evaporating. Bull reached up and smacked him lightly on the ear. “Hey, now, none of that. It doesn’t mean you two can’t work this out.”

“But what if I hurt him again?”

Bull sighed. “Look, you two were managing just fine before this, yes?” Evrion nodded. “Okay, so I think we can make this work, but I need to talk to both of you about it. Can you stand?” 

It turned out he needed help up, but once he was actually upright walking could be managed. Before letting him clothe himself, Bull insisted on washing and examining his torso. He applied salve to several of the welts before he’d let Evrion put his shirt on, but finally they were dressed and Bull led the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always remember - safe sex doesn't just involve the use of barriers to prevent STDs, especially when there's any kind of BSDM play involved.


	3. Agreements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going beautifully until the Ben-Hassrath demand that Bull present his next reports to them in person. Dorian tries to come up with alternatives in his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came hard, if you'll pardon the pun. It also came out a long longer than I thought it was going to be, almost as long as the first two chapters combined, but I couldn't figure out where a good place would be for a break. So here it is, one extra long chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Dorian really wanted to get rip roaring drunk when Bull left, but on the off chance that the mercenary might actually “get this fixed” he made himself sip slowly. It became easier when Varric and Sera joined him, distracting him with their good natured banter. He was just thinking about ordering another tankard when the two Qunari entered. Evrion was walking stiffly, and he had a scrape on his forehead and a cut on his lip, and Dorian fought the urge to rise up and try to kiss away the wounds, not wanting Evrion to run away again.

Bull said something to Evrion, who nodded, and then made his way across the tavern. “It’s a bit noisy in here. Let’s find someplace a bit quieter.” He led them up the stairs to the top floor, and settled heavily onto one of the crates in the corner.

“Alright, now, talk.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Evrion said “I’m an idiot.”

Dorian chuckled weakly. “I don’t think you can lay sole claim to that.”

“I’ll give you that.” They stared at each other for a minute, and then Evrion opened his arms and Dorian stepped into his embrace. 

Bull snorted. “We’re all in agreement about that, aren’t we? So here’s the thing,” he continued. “The two of you are good together, that’s easy to see, but sometimes, Boss, you need something a little different. So you two go on and do your thing, being all lovey-dovey and shit, but when you need to, after a big fight or when you need someone to take control, well, you come see me.” He turned to Dorian. “If you’re okay with that, that is.”

Evrion had gone completely still in his arms, his eyes wide. 

“Is he right?” Dorian asked, and was answered with a nod. “Okay, I get the first thing. I’ve seen it firsthand. But the other, what does he mean about control? Why do you need …” he trailed off.

Evrion stepped back, turned, took a few paces away, looking down. “They picked me to lead the Inquisition because I can make the hard decisions, because I lead and others follow. But sometimes, I need to not be the one that everyone is looking to. Sometimes I need to let go and have someone else take be in command, lead me. And I can’t do that, reach that … well, without the rough stuff, as Bull calls it.”

Dorian stepped forward, laid his hands on Evrion’s arms, waited until the Qunari met his eyes. “Well, then. We’ll have to give this a try, won’t we?” Evrion broke out into a smile, and folded him into his arms.

“So you two are good then?” They both smiled, and Dorian nodded at Bull. “Alright then, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to kiss and make up. But Boss, I still need to have some words with you later.” The growl was back in his voice.

“About what?” Evrion asked, worried again. 

“Boss, you KILLED A DRAGON WITHOUT ME!” Bull roared. “How could you?” He glowered at them for a moment, then stomped off down the stairs. They both managed hold in their laughter until his footsteps faded.

…

To say the next months were good would be a massive understatement. Within a few weeks Dorian had moved his things into the tower. Occasionally Evrion would disappear with Bull for a few hours, showing up later, moving slowly, with a heavy-lidded, peaceful look about him. And he was more than happy to let them go off together when battle roused their fiercer urges.

So after everything had been going so splendidly it was a surprise when he walked into the tavern one evening to find all the Chargers silent and grim and drinking heavily, with Bull and Evrion slouched in their usual chairs, faces expressionless.

“Something the matter?” he asked, sliding in between their chairs and leaning against the wall.

Bull didn’t say anything, staring into his tankard, shoulders tense. 

He looked at Evrion, who grimaced. “The latest packet of information from the Ben-Hassrath arrived today. It contained a … request … that Bull bring his next reports to them personally.”

All the long faces made perfect sense now. “How long will you be gone, do you think?”

“Hopefully only about three or four weeks,” Bull replied tonelessly.

“You will be coming back, though. Right?” 

Bull shrugged. “I hope so. Gatt says they’re still suspicious of my loyalties.” 

Evrion grimaced. “Josephine is currently working on an official letter from the Inquisition, emphasizing the good working relationship our organization has with Hissrad and how important it is to our alliance with the Qunari that this relationship continues.”

“How exactly do you say in a nice diplomatic way that the Inquisitor will be royally pissed if the Ben-Hassrath deprives him of one of his lovers?” That got a snort of laughter out of them both at least, Dorian thought. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.” Both Evrion and Bull spoke in unison.

“Well, then. It’d be horribly rude not to send you off with a proper hangover, wouldn’t it?” They’d been speaking softly up until now, but Dorian made sure his voice had carried on those last few sentences. That roused the Chargers from their funk, and the ale started flowing again.

…

Dorian didn’t know how Bull was feeling the next morning, but his hangover was epic. He and Evrion made it out to the courtyard to see him off, then stumbled back to the tower and crawled back into bed.

The first two weeks of Bull’s absence sped by. His research into Corypheus’ origins progressed with the arrival of several tomes Leliana had tracked down for him. Evrion went off to deal with some rogue Chevaliers. When he returned he was more restless than usual, and after only a day back headed out again, off to clear out an infestation of gurguts in the Exalted Plains. He asked Dorian to come along for this one, but an idea had started percolating, so he pleaded research and mentioned that Vivienne had been complaining about being cooped up at the hold for so long. This earned him a raised eyebrow, but when he left it was with the Iron Lady in the party. 

Dorian saw them off at the gate, then made a few visits. Sera had willingly procured what he asked for when he told her it was for a prank, no questions asked. Solas had been surprised at his request, but was susceptible to flattery and acquiesced. He spent as much time as he could in the days that followed practicing, and when Evrion returned six days later, he felt reasonably confident in his new ability.

…

It was late when Evrion finally made it back to their rooms. It was obvious that he was tense, painfully so. His shoulders were hunched and he was muttering to himself as he entered. He made it about three strides into the room, then came to a dead stop, jaw dropping. 

Dorian had arranged himself artfully while he waited, in a padded chair next to the fireplace, book in hand, shirtless and backlit. The evening wasn’t cool enough to warrant a fire, and he was sweating slightly, which added just the perfect touch in his opinion. 

Evrion seemed to appreciate the view. He swallowed audibly, took a step forward, then stopped. “Dorian, I … I need to leave. This is … I can’t ….” He’d started to breathe heavily and was clenching his fists. He turned to go and Dorian called out.

“Wait, please. Before you leave, I need you to do something for me. Can you do that? I’m going to stay sitting here, and I want you to go take a look at the bed.” Evrion hesitated. “Please? Trust me. You can leave afterwards if you think you need to.”

Evrion nodded, and walked stiffly into the room, hands clenching and unclenching. He came to a sudden stop a few paces from the bed, then slowly moved forward again, reaching out to touch one of the lengths of rope that Dorian had wrapped around the bedposts. The mage watched as he wrapped the length around his hand several times and pulled, hard. Neither the rope nor the bedpost gave. He circled the bed, testing the other three corners, then turned to face Dorian. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well first, you take off your clothes. Then I tie you up. Or down, as the case may be. That order is important, by the way, the undressing and then the tying, because if we did it the other way I’d have to cut your clothes off of you to get at you, and I like those clothes on you rather a lot. After that, I’ve got something lined up that should help you with that letting go thing that you’re so obviously in need of.” Damnit, he was talking too much. But Evrion was listening. Finally, he ran out of words, and waited for a response.

“ _Katoh_ ,” Evrion finally said. “It means stop in Qunlat. It’s the word Bull and I use, for safety. If it gets too much, if you find yourself losing control or if I do, if either of us says it, we stop.”

“ _Katoh_ ,” he repeated. “We’ll stop, I promise.”

There was a long moment of indecisiveness, and then Evrion started undoing the fastenings of his tunic. Dorian waited until he had removed all his clothing and laid himself out on the bed before approaching. He murmured instructions, which Evrion obeyed, leaning his shoulders back against the headboard, stretching out for the ropes. 

When all four limbs were secured, Dorian climbed up onto the bed and straddled him across the hips. Evrion’s eyes were half closed, and he was already breathing raggedly. Gods, he was beautiful. Dorian leaned in, brushed his lips along the other’s jaw, traveled back to the ear and downwards. He’d been surprised at first to find that Evrion was so unused to attentions focused on his neck, but when he thought about it, it made sense. When you were dealing with a race of horned beings, the risk of losing an eye in a moment of passion was a real danger. His lover was deliciously sensitive there, he’d discovered, and he took full advantage of this, licking and nibbling, working his way downwards, and then without any warning he bit down hard on Evrion’s collarbone.

Evrion jumped, breath drawing in harshly, straining against his bonds. The ropes held, though, and so did the bedposts. 

Taking a deep breath, Dorian concentrated, and the first licks of lightning crackled along his arms. Evrion’s eyes grew wide, and he swallowed audibly. Dorian focused until the lightning coalesced on his hands, crackling between his fingers, and then laid his hands flat on either side of Evrion’s chest. He got the response he was hoping for, and then some. In no time at all, Evrion was rock hard, thrashing and moaning beneath him. He pulled back, held his charged hands a few inches about Evrion’s torso, and tiny sparks arced between them, causing spasms in Evrion’s muscles. 

He experimented for a few moments, seeing how far away he needed to pull his hands before the arcing stopped, then shifted to the side and started working his way up and down Evrion’s body, sparking up and down his length, laying his hands down at random intervals, reducing Evrion to a quivering moaning mess. The qunari’s massive shaft was leaking from the tip, and Dorian shifted to between his legs, leaning down, licking and sucking the fluid away, then pulled back while pushing his hands hard down on the sensitive flesh inside both hipbones. Evrion gave a whole cry and his body arced up off the bed. The bedposts creaked, but held. Finally, something good had come out of the Free Marches.  


“Well, then. I’d say we’re on to something here.” Dorian watched as his lover thrashed, moaning. He waited until the other had calmed somewhat, then said. “Open your eyes. Look at me,” and Evrion complied and the look he gave him, oh that look, wild and lost and open and trusting and demanding and pleading, and all for him. “Watch,” he instructed, finding himself breathless suddenly, and he slowly undid his own trousers and slid them off, dropping them off the edge of the bed, then reaching behind him for the flask of oil he’d put there earlier, nestled in the coverlet. 

Working the cork out with his teeth, he poured oil onto his hand, replaced the cork and leaned back, spreading his legs. Slowly, languorously, he spread the oil over himself, stroking his shaft a few times before moving lower. He took his time, fingering, stretching himself, partly to tease Evrion but mainly because it was a necessity. Every part of his giant lover was proportionate, and under normal circumstances he was more than a handful, so to speak. They’d only engaged in penetration a few times, and each time had left him aching, and this evening he was more engorged than Dorian had ever seen him, almost frighteningly so. 

As he worked a fourth finger in, pushing in to where the fingers joined at the hand, groaning at the burn, he repeated to himself over and over, don’t be stupid this time, listen to yourself, stop if it’s too much. Finally, satisfied that he was ready both mentally and physically, he withdrew from himself and sat up. 

Evrion was glassy-eyed, breath coming in short gasps, straining against the ropes. Dorian crawled forwards, kneeling between his legs. He worked the cork out of the flask again, and let the oil start to drip, spreading it up and down with a firm grip. Oh, the noises Evrion made. He drank them in, better than any fine wine. When his shaft was completely slick and sliding through his fingers like silk, he put the flask aside again and raised up. “You need to hold still now,” he instructed, and Evrion became a breathing statue, eyes wide. Dorian used both hands to guide Evrion into him, settling down slowly, an inch at a time, until he was flush against Evrion’s hips. He sat for a minute, breathing deeply.  


“Dorian.” It was the first word either of them spoken since they’d begun. Evrion’s voice was barely above a whisper, questioning, trembling. Dorian began rocking his hips, slowly at first, moaning at the sensation. Evrion started to move with him and Dorian smacked him in the ribs. “I told you to hold still.” Evrion froze again, and Dorian began sliding up and down, bracing him arms on the thighs behind him. He could feel Evrion trembling beneath him as he moved, ever so slowly, letting Evrion slide almost all the way out, then taking him back in again until their bodies touched. The sensations were almost overwhelming, and he forced himself to stop, on the brink of orgasm, kneeling above Evrion, with his shaft half in, half out, panting. 

Evrion stirred beneath him again, leaning forward, straining against the ropes, accidentally driving himself deeper. “Dorian! Are you hurt?” and it was too much, he was losing control, he couldn’t hold it in, and he managed to gather the shreds of his concentration and lightning flared and he put his hands down flat on Evrion’s chest, squarely across the nipples and shouted “I said BE STILL” and Evrion slammed up into him, filling him with warmth and with a hoarse cry he came also, then collapsed forward onto his lover’s chest.  


Eventually he got his limbs moving again, digging out the towel he’d shoved under the pillows that afternoon and cleaning themselves off, then working the ropes loose. Evrion was completely limp, and yes, there it was, that look of release that he’d seen so many times before. With a little help he managed to get them both snuggled under the coverlet, and then he let sleep claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as the mages go, gameplay-wise, I've concentrated Dorian on the fire spell tree so far until his specialization opens up, as it seems to fit his personality. Vivienne is ice, of course, and that leaves electricity to Solas, which is why Dorian had to go to him for help in learning a new skill.
> 
> The Free Marches comment comes from the beds customization options for Skyhold. I'm picturing the Marches II bed for this scene. There's a video showing all of the options here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0Od5S4Cu40  
> That one looks to be the sturdiest of them all!
> 
> Chapter 4 is almost finished. I should have it up soon. Thanks for reading!


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull returns to Skyhold and finds out something unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this one pretty much finished before I started Chapter 3 - always knew how it was going to end.

Four weeks to the day after he’d left, Bull returned Skyhold, arriving early in the afternoon and reporting in immediately. Evrion was out in the field again, so it fell to Dorian to welcome him back. Well, after the Chargers had had their turn, that is. Bull was sprawled in his usual chair in the tavern, and his men and women congregated around him, singing at the top of their lungs and doing their best to drink the tavern dry. Dorian chased one of them out of the chair next to him and settled in, and they clinked their tankards together before both drinking deeply. 

“Good to have you back, Bull.”

“Good to be back. I’ve missed this place.” Bull sighed and leaned back, stretching his legs out. 

“So we didn’t have anything to worry about after all?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I spent a lot of time explaining myself.” He grimaced. “If Josephine hadn’t sent that letter, who knows? There were one or four re-educators hanging around me the whole time. I think they were waiting to see if I’d turn myself back in. Not a chance, though.” He took another drink. “Boss told me months ago that I’d come to a point where I’d have to decide who I was and walk away from one part of my life. I think my superiors know it too – they brought me back to try to rein me in. But while I was there I realized I’d already made the choice a long time ago. I am The Iron Bull.”

“And how exactly did they react to this exciting tidbit of news?” Dorian asked, curious.

Bull snorted. “Oh, I didn’t tell them. Not going to jeopardize this alliance while we’re still fighting. No, I’ll wait until we mount Corypheus’ head on a pike first. I’ll light that barrel of gatlok after.” 

Dorian hadn’t realized how worried he’d been until the worry lifted. The Chargers hit the chorus again, all slamming their tankards against the table, and Bull grinned. “Damn, it’s good to be back,” he repeated, then paused, serious again. “You guys manage okay while I was gone?”

Dorian gave him an evil grin. “Oh, we did better than manage.”

Bull’s eyes got wide and he sat up in his chair. “You two didn’t get stupid again, did you?”

“Don’t be silly. I used rope. And this,” and Dorian called up a sliver of lightning, making his fingers spark.

“So that worked out okay for you, then?” There was something odd in the merc’s voice.

“More than okay, I’d say.”

There was a long pause. “Well, I guess you two don’t need me anymore then,” Bull said, voice flat, eyes downcast.

Something clicked in Dorian’s brain. That was definitely disappointment he was hearing. He made a snap decision. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s not something I’d be able to do very often. It takes an awful lot of energy. I was pretty useless the next day, and we won’t talk about how long afterwards I had problems walking, thank you very much. Oh, and my hair? My hair was a fright. All that static.”

Bull was definitely perking back up. Taking a risk, Dorian reached over and laid his hand on Bull’s thigh. “And the three of us do make a pretty good team, don’t you think?” 

It was slow in coming, but he was rewarded with that wonderful lop-sided grin, and Bull covered his hand with his own. “So, you think you could show me that trick sometime, Sparkler?”

…

The bed creaked alarmingly as they moved, their combined weight putting it to the test. Bull knelt in the center, Evrion leaning back against Bull’s chest, Dorian pressed against his front. Bull’s hands were wrapped around Dorian’s thighs, holding him in place. Evrion’s were clasped behind his back, crushed in between his and Bull’s bodies. The mage let his fingers travel down Evrion’s chest, trailing threads of lightning that flared in time with their thrusts. Their orgasms were a chain reaction, Evrion’s triggering the other two, and afterwards they collapsed together, limbs intertwined, eventually falling asleep, Bull on his back, Evrion tucked into his side, and Dorian enfolded in Evrion’s arms.

The next morning, Dorian woke up, stretched, and discovered he was alone in the giant bed, with the curtains drawn. Rising, he pushed open the heavy draperies and found Bull and Evrion asleep together in a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room. He swallowed down jealousy as they stirred. “Whatever are you doing down there?” he asked, forcing cheerfulness into his voice. “Did I kick you out in my sleep?”

Evrion rubbed his eyes as Bull stirred beside him. “Worse. You were snoring.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I went from writing sweet sappy romances to this in such a short amount of time. Tumblr and AO3, you are terrible influences.
> 
> Here's Evrion, a Qunari warrior:  
> http://dbvictoria.tumblr.com/post/107165336043/more-screen-shots-from-my-second-play-through
> 
> Edited to add: I'm not the only one who ships this trio, although this fan art is of Lavellan instead of Adaar. It's still damn cute:  
> http://kataraqui.tumblr.com/post/108690308928/the-super-subtle-seduction-of-dorian-pavus
> 
> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
